Sunday, February 26, 2012

Hallelujah coffee isn't gross anymore

In terrorist type negotiations, the alien has finally relented on the coffee issue. Seems a fair trade for the multitude of lbs I packed on this week.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

True dat

Just went on a great hike with Erin and the Hubs...on the way to post hike gelato we passed a stretch Escalade at which Erin exclaimed "'s the only word that comes to mind."

Friday, February 17, 2012

Happy belated Valentine's

Amazing V day at chez Jowegawa with the Woodies, Wendy and Jamie. You guys can be my valentines any ole time!

My Valentines

Super awesome bonus V day pressie was the arrival of a sweet package from my mom and Erin to the 801. It has been so great hanging with one of my besties. I had a super pac of besties when Erin and I met Lizzie for dins on Wednesday.

In other good life developments, the hubs came home early from Coolerado because his travel plans got slightly effed. So happy he is back for a few days before heading on a work trip all week next week.

On the Garfield front--Garfield is taking on manatee like qualities. I can't fit in any of my pants except for 2 pairs of "fat" pants. Luckily my mom sent me some of her fat pants and a few of those are working. For now...

Monday, February 13, 2012

The squeaky wheel gets the sympathy oil

Note to self: though lame, negative posts won't make you feel better, they may elicit sympathy from friends...Two awesome notes today from Coach K (trying to be a bad influence---but in a good way) and Anne the Viking. Thanks guys!

Moreover, I had a weigh-in this morning (alias for prenatal doctor's appointments stolen from one of my not-so-secret favorite blogs). Despite my complication (I need to come up with a new word), things are otherwise ok and I got to listen to the alien's heartbeat. It must have been a tempo day because he was holding steady at HR 158. Lucky for him I did a big carb refuel for dinner. After all I did take the stairs up to my office today.

Most of the moving (to the upstairs apartment) is finished. That means I can enjoy a long day at work and then Valentine's dinner at the Jowegawas in peace. At least relatively...Most of our crap is up here but still needs to be sorted out. And in other awesome turn of events, Erin is showing up tomorrow night! In true Pezzulo-Lawrence hosting style, she will be treated to a clusterf&*^ of accommodation with a twist of construction zone to keep it interesting. Anyone in the 801 want to host a sleepover for me and my blonde doppelganger?

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Complaints with a side of bad attitude

Garfield has been chugging the haterade lately. I feel like I'm sick of hearing myself complain NOT ONLY to other people, but even in my own head. There I go, complaining about complaining. That's where the bad attitude comes in...

The hubs left for the ski hut trip yesterday upon which some of my closest friends and family will be. Because of my *complication* I can't do any serious exercise or be in situations where I'm not close to a hospital (even though I feel fine).  I was pretty devastated about not getting to go on the trip but when I heard there was talk of cancellation, I encouraged the Hubs, Dave and my friends to stick to the plan. Even though I'm acidic about not being able to go, the hut trip not even HAPPENING would just be downright blasphemous.

So I was rewarded with my big person-ness by getting to say goodbye to the hubs and then spending the whole weekend moving all our crap into our mother-in-law apartment. The frenzy was a result of a Friday night phone call with our contractor in which said contractor explained he could start the demo this week. To his credit the hubs busted his ass all night Friday trying to do what he could before leaving town. He still did not receive a warm send off.

Answer honestly, what is worse than spending Valentine's Day fat, alone, unable to exercise and having to pack all your crap, move AND be in the middle of a construction zone? Who even cares about a holiday that is completely commercial? I guess I do when it allows me to feel justified in my complaining and bad attitude.

Screw Valentine's Day...Bring on Easter and the Cadbury Creme Eggs (peanut butter eggs also welcome--anything marshmallow: keep your distance; though Peeps do have their place in certain microwave milieus).

Even when I'm pooh in the diaps, I do always try to impart something positive (less negative?)
(scrolling through the standbys of health, weather, friends...)

Ah I have it...A few things that made me smile in the recent past
1. Open house at Newberry's sweet pad by the Capitol on Saturday. The Woodies picked me up and we did a Whole Foods stop to pick up some nibblies for the bbq. The elevator takes forever at the new Whole Foods and Woody got real and thrust his shopping cart between the closing doors saving us precious seconds (and horrifying the onlooking customers)
2. The *shit cyclists say* conversation I had with the Sleaze wherein we discussed his get lean program for this season.  Before I could call bullshit (you guessed it: gluten free), he sua sponte confessed that it was basically just the Atkins diet. We agreed that the gluten-free thing is just the Atkins diet for liberals.
3. Grapefruits on sale. Hello Johnny G citrus blends! 

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Garfield with a dash of Lois Lane

I am the mayor of struggle city lately. I am lucky I am not on bed rest but the exercise ban is really getting to me. The hormones are going more crazy. The good news is I am liking veggies and fruit again (still can't do tomatoes). In the OC disorder, I got the taste for the freshly squeezed OJ thanks to Johnny G. I didn't really drink oj before but now I must have it all the time, and it must be freshly squeezed. Had to invest in a new kitchen appliance as a result of this.

Anyway, it occurs to me that Garfield is getting a twist of the Lois Lane with the daily need for freshly squeezed OJ and meat (although I prefer pork and turkey to cheeseburgers). Luckily I have a Clark Kent (usually) willing to oblige the weirdness.

The Yogurt on My Pretzels

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